The Hostage Job
by Daemon Wings
Summary: Kayler Lennin, student of medical sciences at California State, suddenly goes missing. And her mother knows that in three days, she could already be dead. Can the Leverage team find her in time? Is finding Kayler the only thing they'll find?
1. Monks In California

The room was so dark, it was a little creepy. It was a hallway, so why shouldn't we properly light it? I looked around, seeing only dusty stones and spiderwebs. Man, this hallway was so long, it was insane. "Sir? Sir…?" I asked feebly. "Where are we headed?"

The monks in front of me stayed silent, just walking forward still. If this was the path to enlightenment, I didn't exactly like the irony. It was starting to get cold. Those monks had thick long-sleeved robes, and all I had was an old lemon-yellow 80's off the shoulder top and a pair of distressed acid wash jeans. It was slowly getting more and more like an icebox in this hall, and I was seeing no chance of light ahead. "Um…excuse me?" I asked again. "Where are we…"

"Miss Lennin," one of the monks said, not bothering to move a muscle and look at me. "We are almost there. Please, just remain quiet." Then the other one reached into his pocket and pulled out this really old, rusty key. Opening a door I just realized was there, he led me into a small room with a cot, desk, and two candles for light and warmth. Then they closed the door behind me, and I heard the rusted iron scraping against the inside of the door lock.

-x-

"Please," the woman sobbed to the five strangers sitting in her living room. "She went off to school and never came back. The police said she had to be gone three days before she could be counted missing, but in three days she could be dead!" The woman, her blonde hair graying and her green eyes bloodshot from tears.

"We understand, really," the dark haired woman in front of her said.

"Mrs. Lennin, could you possibly tell us a bit more about your daughter…?" another team member asked, the black man with the laptop.

Nodding, the gray-blonde woman answered. "Kayler? She has my hair, long blonde and soft curls, and her father's pastel green eyes. She's really thin, and has kind of a retro-style, likes all those 80's off-the-shoulder stuff… She graduates California State in a year…"

"Found her," the computer man announced.

"What do you have, Hardison?" asked another man, this one with green-blue eyes and long brown hair. He looked over the black man's shoulder at the laptop screen.

"She was spotted outside Cali State, but she never showed up for classes. According to mobile Facebook she's run into a few monks. Pretty strange…" Hardison told the five.

"Monks? In California?" the long-haired man asked. He sounded skeptical. He read the Facebook profile. _Kayler Lennin is skipping first period anatomy to check out some awesome medical science info with two monks. Sweet!_ "Huh. So, she's a Med Science major?" the man asked, looking to Mrs. Lennin.

"Yes. Kayler's going to be a doctor. Pediatrician."

-x-

It was getting hard to breathe in here. The one window was a boarded up slot for messenger birds, and then two candles and a twenty-three year old woman taking up all the oxygen? By the time anyone realized I was gone, I'd be a corpse on the ground. And by the time they found me, I'd be a sack of rotting bones. But let's think positively.

I took out my phone and stood on my bed, holding the phone towards the window. I got a signal, so I hopped onto Facebook and updated my status.

_Kayler Lennin is HELP ME HOSTAGE MONKS NO AIR SOMEONE HELP!_

That should help people find me. Ha, like anyone would be looking. It had only been a couple of hours, and police have to wait three days. In three days I could be dead.

"C'mon, Kay. C'mon. You're Kayler Eliza Lennin. You can figure this out," I told myself, pacing the floor. I sat on the cot/bed/thing I was supposed to sleep on and thought out an escape plan.

Well, the two candles had about an hour or three (respectively) left in them, and then three hours of my breathing, would mean that in two hours I would be having hallucinations from lack of air. Contrary to popular belief, the space between a door and the wall it's hinged to and the space between boards patching a bird slot aren't enough to circulate air. So I was trapped until I was dead, basically. No windows. No doors. No way out alive, it seemed.

Oh yeah, that's positive.

-x-

"Really?" a blonde in the back piped up. She didn't sound all too pleased about it. Hardison turned to look at her, but heard a small beeping. "Hey, hey Nate… Sophie, Parker, Nate, we've got her. She updated her status and I can get her phone GPS signal from here…" Hardison explained, typing things in the computer's console to bring up software and the like. The man with the long hair, whom none of the team had introduced as Eliot, read the status.

"Better hurry up, Hardison. We can't waste any time on this job."

Nathan turned from the screen to Eliot questioningly. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Am I the only one who actually read her status?" Eliot asked the group around him. "For all you know she could be saying '_Kayler Lennin is safe in California, attending lunch with friends.' _But instead, you know what it said?" he asked, getting a little annoyed with the ignorance around him, but he didn't blatantly show it.

"What?" Parker, the blonde, asked.

"'_Kayler Lennin is HELP ME HOSTAGE MONKS NO AIR SOMEONE HELP.' _That's what it said. This is a hostage job guys. And she's already in trouble. Her mom's right, in three days she could be dead. And by the time the police find her she'll be nothing more than decay and bones. So Hardison, could we move a bit faster?"

Parker looked over Hardison's shoulder, seeing Kayler's status and display picture beside it. A smug smile of understanding came across her face. "This isn't about the job, Eliot," she said quietly. "This is because she's another curly haired blonde you think you can get some fun out of. This is because you want to be her knight in shining armor, because you think she's _hot._"

-x—x-

**A.N.: **_Hey guys! Wow, I've got a ton of projects to do, huh? Haha, well, at least I won't be bored this year! Either way, I have fallen in love with the show Leverage, and saw the lack of good fanfictions for it and decided to add my crappy works to the archive. And now you're reading it!_

_Please: If you find spelling errors, grammatical errors, or something in here you didn't like, then let me know in a review. If you liked it, as well, please go ahead and tell me. And I'd like to ask you guys to quote things you laughed aloud at, whether they were meant to be funny or not. Thanks so much. I really strive to write well, and your reviews help me out a lot._

_Hope you enjoyed my little bit of _The Hostage Job_!_

_P.S.: Thank you, "Mrs. Eliot Spencer", for noticing my horridly obvious typo on Hardison's name. *headdesk*_


	2. It's By the McDonalds

A.N.: I just want to say, if you have an issue with the way I portray the characters in this chapter, please send me an email at the address: _theacoustics _at _pixelpets _dot ORG. Thanks much. I'd like to discuss the show, this story, and any issues you have with my writings there, and would preffer you not clutter my review board with them. I'm not saying don't hate me. I'm saying please don't hate me on my review board. You can hate me in my inbox all you like.

No owning. But I will say: It's called FANfiction for a _reason._ Really.

bdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbd

Hearing Parker's words, Hardison looked at Kayler's picture. "Damn, I don't blame him…" he said quietly, partially to avoid Parker's rantings.

"I said it once, I'll say it again, Parker. There's something wrong with you," Eliot told her, pointing for emphasis.

"Okay, well whatever the reason, we're taking the job," Nathan announced, in an effort to stop the fight before it started.

"You…you are? Oh, thank you. Thank you so much," Mrs. Lennin exclaimed, calming down, her tears stopping.

"Come on, everyone. Let's get out of her living room," Nate told the group. Eliot shot Parker a glare. Hardison packed up his laptop, and then they all left the house.

-x-

I sat on the bed, flopping back. What time was it? How long had I been here? Standing, pulling out my cell phone, it hit me. This is a cell _phone. _Like, to _call people with._ I held it towards the window, watching my little one bar service climb to a decent three bars. I dialed the house.

It didn't even ring. It went straight to the automated, "We're sorry, but this number is unavailable. Please hang up and try again."

With a groan, I hung up. I tried Emily, my lab partner and best friend since seventh grade, on her cell. "We're sorry," the automated tone tried this time. I hung up, dialing 9-1-1.

"We're," it got out before I screamed and threw the phone at the wall. I took a deep breath, and then crawled off the bed and towards the phone.

If my hunch was right, I'd smash this thing with a sludge-hammer if I got out of here. I flipped open the phone, and carefully read the "Settings" menu from the cracked screen. Selecting "Phone Information" I scrolled for my minutes.

"You've got to be kidding," I muttered to the phone. "Figures. When I actually need a phone, it's got no minutes."

Of course I had neglected to refill my minutes. And of course I figured anyone I needed to talk to I'd TALK to, and so I had disabled texting when I got the phone. At least I still had access to Facebook, even if it _was _slow. I groaned again, falling backwards and laying on the floor.

What do you know. Floor's more comfortable than the bed.

-x-

"Come on, Kayler, get back online please…" Hardison mumbled to the computer on his lap. He drummed his fingers on the keyboard, watching the blonde's Facebook profile.

"Didn't you get her cell signal hours ago?" Eliot asked, turning his head from the road to the techie for a moment. "Hardison, I have no idea where we're supposed to be going."

"Yeah, well I can't really do anything about that, man," Hardison shot back. "It's not my fault we have to keep going in circles back through that dead zone!" He looked to the screen, waiting for any sort of change. Hitting F5, Hardison smirked. "Okay, I've got her. Lemme get her cell's I.P. address… Okay, I've got a lock on her signal…" he started, the rest fading to an incoherent mumble.

"That's great, Hardison. Where am I going?" Eliot asked, looking at the screen.

"Left up here on Walnut. Take it for two and a half miles and take the back-road. It's by a McDonalds or something. Yeah, McDonalds."

"Thank you," Eliot replied, shaking his head slightly.

-x-

I had almost fallen asleep when the monk guys kicked at me. I started doubting they were monks.

"Who the hell are you people?!" I screamed at them, standing up from the floor and walking backwards, back to the wall, away from them. I would have run for the door, but there were apparently more than two monk guys holding me hostage.

"Miss Lenin, we told you…" one started, walking towards me, his arms outstretched towards me. "We are but humble monks of this temple."

"Why the hell would a group of monks take a girl hostage?" I yelled, backing away even more. My back hit the wall, and I slowly felt around the wall, seeing if anything jutted out from the surface that I could climb up.

"We only wanted to share our knowledge with one of California's students," the monk told me. He put a hand on my shoulder, which brought up a statistic I once read.

_90% of rape cases start with a touch of the shoulder._

Oh shit. Oh, holy freaking shit. They have me right where they want me, and there's nowhere I can run. "Why me?" I asked, my voice quieter from fear.

"Why not you?" the "monk" asked in reply. His hand slid down from my shoulder, down my arm, and he rubbed his thumb against my chest. I threw my arm out against him, pulling his arm away from me.

"Don't you dare touch me!" I screamed. He tried to grab me with his other arm, but I kicked at him a few times. I only made contact with his legs, but it pushed him far enough back that I could get a good kick in to a certain area I hear is most painful on men. He crumpled up and fell to the floor, and so I kicked at him like he kicked at me.

"Hey, hey rapist, wake up!" I shouted at him, and then I ran for my cot thing. Jumping over it, I grabbed the pen on the desk. Another one of the rapist people came running for me, so I stabbed his left shoulder, in that nerve area in between the bones, with the pen. He screamed and staggered away from me, another guy taking his place.

"You asshole!" he shouted at me, but I just laughed from the fear and adrenaline and grabbed the still burning candle on the table. I threw it at him, his "robes" catching on fire. He started freaking out, slapping at the flames.

"I'm a bitch, there's a difference!" I shouted back. "Stop, drop, and roll!" I advised him, and he did so. But he didn't think of where he was rolling. He rolled right over to me, and I kicked at his "painful area" and tried to make a break for it. But I forgot about the three that were waiting at the door.

"Miss Lenin. You made short work of our collegues," one told me, grabbing my arm and yanking me back. One of the other rapists grabbed my other arm. "Are you sure your major is Medical Sciences?"

"Nope. I'm an art major," I told them sarcastically. "Now let me go!" I screamed, as if that would really make a difference. The last guy walked into my "room" and helped his little rapist/monk buddies out.

"Certainly, Miss Lenin." Then the two rapists threw me back into the room and once again locked the door.


	3. Liars and Theives

Top of Form

I started seeing things a while ago. For five minutes, Professor Happycat was in my room, telling me about all the LOLcats, in my garden scaring my children. But I don't have children. I'm only twenty-six. I'm still (humiliatingly) single. And I doubt anyone is going to want to change that. My friends have all told me that I'm beautiful, but I don't want a guy to ask me out because he acknowledges I have boobs. I want him to like me because I'm smart, or I'm funny, or talented. I want him to like me because he acknowledges I'm _me._

"Why are we bothering with stealth on this one?" I heard a girl say. I disregarded it, thinking it was another hallucination. I ran my fingers through my hair, which was now dirty and tangled from my escape attempts, and me fighting against those "monks" who were really RAPISTS.

"Because, Parker, we… Well, actually I don't know," I heard someone else say. This imaginary-voice was a man, sounded kind of like a black guy to me, but I was uncertain. Besides, hallucinogenic voices don't really have ethnicities now do they?

I started hearing little scratches, and crawled off my bed, heading for the darker corner of the room, behind the desk. "They've got a decent lock. Looks crappy, but it's actually pretty nice. I salute 'em," the girl said again.

"Parker, move," I heard a third voice say, this one male, but much deeper than the first. He was quieter, too. Okay, why am I obsessing over analyzing voices created by my brain's confusion from lack of oxygen?

Suddenly, the door flew open, and I hurried closer to the wall. Were those rapist/monk/people/scum back to try one more time? I could barely see, my retinas used to the darkness (again, light source equals two candles) and ever since the monk/rapists threw me back in here, they'd upgraded to fluorescent lighting. The sudden outburst of light was painful, but I saw three people come into the room.

"Hey… Hey, Kayler," one of them said, walking toward me. The voice was the same one that told the Parker voice to move. I pushed myself further into the wall, my fear multiplying by the minute. Who were these people? Were they even people? What was going on? He then kneeled in front of me.

"W-Wha… Who are… How do you know…?" I whispered. My fear had stolen my voice.

"Shh," the man told me, but he wasn't rude or demanding in the way he said it. "We're here to take you home. Nothing bad's going to happen to you anymore, Kayler."

I was crying now. Everything was happening so fast, it was insane. How did those rapist people find me? Why did they take me? How did these people find me, and why were they so nice? Who were they? Were they even real? I inched over to the man in front of me slowly, warily. Then I just crumpled into him, crying like a five-year-old, in the lap of a stranger I could barely see.

"Shh… It's going to be okay," he told me, putting his arms around me. He pulled me up so my head was leaning into his shoulder, and slowly stroked my arm. I had forgotten there were two other people here. It seemed like he forgot, too.

"Why are you… helping me?" I choked out through sobs. "Why are you guys so nice to me?"

He let out a small quiet laugh, and told me, "Because sometimes," I felt him turn his head around to look at the other people in the room, "bad guys are the only good guys you get."

"Bad guys…? You people seem pretty heroic to me," I whispered, still crying.

"We'll explain in the car, Kayer. C'mon, Eliot, get her up and let's get out of here before we have company," the girl, Parker, said.

"Right, c'mon," Eliot, whom I've been referring to as "the stranger I'm crying into", told me, and helped me up. My legs were shaking, and I had started back into my inability to breathe, but I could see now, and I was going home. I wasn't exactly complaining. Right now, I was just scared of my captors coming back with guns or something and killing Eliot and Parker and the other guy, who was indeed a black man.

"I want to get out of here as soon as possible," I told them shakily, my breath still wavering even though we'd gotten into the hallway now and there was finally air.

"Heh, that can be arranged. Okay, Nate, we got her out and we're bringing her home. Yeah, yeah she's in one piece. Doesn't look too banged up," the black guy said, and I started to worry again. Well, I found the term "banged up" a tad Ironic, seeing as I was almost raped, but I was worried because he was talking to himself.

"Who are you…talking to?" I asked slowly, afraid I'd offend him. He merely pointed to his ear, which I took as his brain, which I then thought he meant _voices in his head._ Great. One of my "saviors" is a schizophrenic.

"Here," Eliot said to me, seeing the look on my face (whixh apparently told my thoughts like an open book) and pulled something from his ear and held it to mine.

"…Just get her out of there without drawing attention, please," someone's voice, another male, said through the earpiece.

I laughed, amazed at the manor of professionalism these people took at getting me out of a hostage situation. "Clever," I noted, Eliot putting the earpiece back in his ear.

"Thank you, top of the line, these are," the black guy told me. "And a damn bit expensive, too. But, wasn't exactly hard to get a few…" he explained with a smug smile. Then it clicked.

"Woah, woah, hold it." I stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, trying to sort out the crazy mess inside my brain. "You guys are a bunch of _thieves?" _I asked. "How can I trust you? How do I know you aren't taking me hostage after _stealing _me from being _these guys'_ hostage? And yes, I am aware stealing a person is kidnapping, but excuse my incorrect use of the term, that ISN'T the issue here. What, did you guys rob my mom's house and take me hostage for some ransom?" I asked, infuriated.

"Kayler," Parker tried, but I didn't let her. I continued on my rant.

"So that's what you meant by 'bad guys'? You're just a bunch of thieves, how can you even think of doing someone a good favor if all you know is crime, and how to break it? I'm amazed you all can stand without _spines._"

"Kayler," the techie tried. I didn't let him talk to me either. There was one person here I wanted to talk to, because he was the one who made me think he was the hero of the story, that he was the one that was going to save me. Because he lied to me, and I wanted to hear why he did it.

"What's your excuse, huh? And I want the truth, if you even remember what that is. Why are you being so nice to me, saving me, if all you are is a gang of thieves? And don't even give me that God damned 'You can't handle the truth' crap, because I bloody well _can_ take it, and I _expect _it, too. So let's hear it."

"Kayler," Eliot tried this time.

"What?" I snapped. I was really only angry because I was confused. If they were bad guys, why were they doing good things?

"Stop assuming and keep walking. We'll explain in the car. Now move," he told me, putting a hand on my back to make me walk forward.

"Whatever. You just know I'm right," I mumbled, and walked. But inside, I wanted so bad to just scream at him, _"You lied to me! You didn't say it, but I know you wanted to! It was in your actions, you were so sweet to me and all it was, it was just you trying to get me to trust you! And I fell for it, Eliot. I thought you were here because you guys cared about a little med student, a girl who was trapped and needed saving. I thought you guys were good guys, people here to help, people trying to be heroes, but all you are is a bunch of thieves? And I trusted you! You made me trust you, believe your lies! You made me-" _But I wouldn't even let myself finish that thought. It was impossible.

But Eliot was right: I needed to stop assuming.

And just then, I assumed the gratitude I felt for him getting me out of there was something more.


End file.
